Kinktober 2024

Roleplay || dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

"Be a good muse for me," Wanda murmurs, and you stifle a giggle.

At first, the thought of roleplay had sounded silly to you. I mean, honestly, why would you want to play pretend? But, Wanda had convinced you to be her muse. She had an art project to finish and needed a figure to paint. So, thus began your first introduction to roleplay.

You stayed still, a sheet draped over your body as you remembered your role. A princess, stuck in a castle with only the painter for company while she waited for someone to rescue her with a true love's kiss.

Sure, it was cliche and sappy. But that's what you loved about it. It really played into the ridiculousness of the situation, and it definitely eased your worries of feeling silly.

"Is this pose alright?" You asked, sitting casually in your chair. Throwing a leg over the arm of the chair, you make sure that the sheet is covering your nude center before smirking at Wanda.

Her green eyes are wide and hungry, locked on the sheet hiding your supple curves.

"Perhaps you could move the sheet a bit, my princess."

"How so?" You're teasing her, your words light as mischievous as she glances up towards your face.

Wanda purses her lips slightly, setting down her paintbrush as she slowly stands. Her steps are sure, a few strands of her auburn hair escaping her bun and framing her face perfectly. A spare pencil holds her hair together, and you long to remove it.

Long fingers gently touch the fabric draping over your shoulder. Green eyes meet yours, and you shudder.

"May I?"

Mutely, you nod. Her fingers are warm and tantalizingly close, sure with their movements as they maneuver the fabric over your body. Wanda lays the fabric over one shoulder, leaving the other bare with a hint of collarbone peaking out. The sheet is soft against your chest, but thin enough to show your nipples poking through when she adjusts the fabric.

A small smile creeps onto Wanda's lips, and you imagine that you're a princess, desperate for attention and starved of any touch or affection. Suddenly, the urge to crash your lips against hers rages within you, and you feel yourself truly lean into the roleplay for the first time.

"Do you paint women often?"

Wanda looks up from where she was placing the fabric over your lap, her freckles standing out in the dim lighting from candles around the room. It's easy to imagine that you're up in a high cobblestone tower, the solitude surrounding you as you cling to your guest like a lifeline.

"I do, but none have been quite as exquisite as you, princess," she whispers as if sharing a secret with you. It makes you lean in, your hands clutching the fabric tightly.

Looking back down, Wanda's hands softly cover yours. She pries your fingers off the fabric, another hand gently pressing against your sternum until you're seated against the back of the chair.

"It's very important that you don't move too much during this process, Your Highness," she explains, a small smile playing on her lips at your reluctance to sit back. Her hands are warm, even through the cloth, and your skin burns from her touch.

Her hands leave, and you feel oddly... empty.

"Do you really have to sit all the way over there?" You ask, watching Wanda's head tilt in thought as she looks between you and her easel.

"Well," she muses, moving her easel closer. You can smell her vanilla perfume, and you grow dizzy with need and anticipation. "I suppose being closer would help with the details. Excellent idea, princess."